It’s All In Your Head

In 1999, my life changed with a single phone call. It was a day in September when the doctor called to deliver the diagnosis: multiple sclerosis. I remember holding the phone, the room suddenly feeling colder, the words echoing in my mind. How cold and impersonal it felt, to hear such life-altering news over the phone. At that moment, I was alone—no close family nearby, just me and the overwhelming reality of being a single mom raising three boys.

Before that call, I had spent three long weeks in the hospital as doctors struggled to determine what was wrong with me. My right side was completely paralyzed, and my left side was so weak that even holding a pen was impossible. Basic tasks—walking, eating, showering, getting dressed—became monumental challenges. Everything that had once been automatic now required intense effort and relearning.

That was the beginning of my journey, one that I have walked for twenty-six years now. It’s been a path of rediscovery, resilience, and relearning. Step by step, I fought to regain what MS had taken. I relearned how to walk, how to feed myself, how to live independently again. I refused to let multiple sclerosis define me.

But that refusal came at a cost. I am stubborn, fiercely so, and the thought of asking for help was like swallowing glass. It takes a kind of humility I wasn’t ready to embrace. I was afraid of being a burden, afraid that my limitations would weigh down the people I loved. Yet, over time, I began to understand that strength isn’t always about standing on your own. Sometimes, it’s about having the courage to lean on others, to let yourself be held when life becomes too heavy.

Now, twenty-six years later, I still navigate life with MS, but I do so with more grace and acceptance. I’ve learned that asking for help doesn’t diminish my strength—it amplifies it. And I am still here, still moving forward, one step at a time.